


Nutcracker Russian Style

by jkkitty



Series: Christmas [7]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Christmas, Gen, dtc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkkitty/pseuds/jkkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to yelizaveta52 for the clean-up and her help.</p><p>Present to Renn</p><p>Prompts:   Peppermint Bark,  Nutcracker, Snow</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nutcracker Russian Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renn/gifts).



Among the well-dressed crowd exiting the theater were Napoleon and Illya. They had been invited to a formal dinner before attending a performance by the Russian Ballet of the Nutcracker.  The American looked at his partner and was thrilled to see the excitement and smile gracing Illya’s face. 

“You enjoyed your Christmas present then?” Napoleon asked.

“This was a wonderful and unexpected surprise.  Thank you. How did you know that I was interested in this play?”

“Actually Aunt Amy mentioned that she saw you staring at her first night premier catalog from the Skobelev Theater rather wistfully and mentioned it to me.  When I said I would like to take you, she offered to get the tickets for me under her name as the premier is only for Golden Supporters.”

“The cost, you should not have spent that much but I appreciate it.”  Then quickly and with a reflective voice, he added.  “I remember going with my mother and father as a young child.  It was one of the last things we did as a family before my father left for the front.”

Napoleon smile saddened a little.  He didn’t mean to be the cause of unhappy memories, “I sorry if this brought up times you would’ve preferred to forget.”

“You did not.  Sometimes it is nice to remember the happy things that has happen in my life.” Illya quickly spoke up.

This brought the smile back to Napoleon’s face. Illya didn’t understand how much he would be willing to pay to see this effect on his partner’s face.  “So what did you think of it?”

“Do you realize that the origin of the Nutcracker is a fairy tale ballet in two acts centered on a family’s Christmas Eve celebration? It was commissioned by the director of Moscow’s Imperial Theatres, Ivan Vsevolozhsky, in 1891 and premiered a week before Christmas 1892.”

“No but then that’s why I have you around.   Another use of all that useless information you have in your head.” 

Illya rolled his eyes but his smile brightened.  “Always at your service.”

Napoleon pulled a box out of his coat pocket and handed it to his partner.   Raising his eyebrows, Illya opened it.

 Inside was a small Nutcracker.  Smiling Illya replaced it, “Thank you my friend.”

 “Well I for one am happy the Russian’s decided to share this play. Come on partner.  Let’s go to my apartment for after theater drinks and refreshments.”

…..

Relaxing in Napoleon’s apartment, Illya was surprised when he was handled a champagne glass with a peppermint candy wheel at the bottom of it before Napoleon poured chilled Peppermint Bark Vodka and champagne over it. 

Illya raised his eyes at Napoleon looking confused.

“It’s called a Peppermint Bark Bubbly Drop,” Napoleon answered the question he saw in his partner’s eyes.  “I thought I could keep the spirit of the season and seeing you love your vodka looked up some recipes.”

Slipping the drink instead of downing it as he usually did, Illya smiled.  “This is excellent.  Again, I thank you for going out of your way to ensure I had a pleasant night.  How can I ever thank you?”

“You, my friend, do every day by being my partner.  I have munchies to go with the alcohol.” 

“Munchies?  Let me guess another American idolism.”

“Snacks.  Lets see, I have sausage, cheese ball with crackers, Bavarian meatballs, some chicken satay and a veggie plate.”

Illya eyes lit up and waited anxiously for Napoleon to bring in the food.  They spend the next few hours just relaxing,  talking, eating, and drinking. 

“I need to get home soon,” Illya yawned.  “I am working the early shift for the holidays.” 

“Again, this is what the fourth year in a row.  You don’t need to always take that shift.”

“Others have families and celebrate the season.  I do not.  Besides this evening was everything I could wish for.”

“I understand and I’m sure many appreciate it.  You know you could stay here for the night. My guest room is yours for the taking.”

“Thank you but I really need to head home tonight.”

“If you insist but before you leave I’m making a drink I’m sure you’ll love.  It’s called Peppermint Bark Hot Chocolate. You pour steaming hot chocolate over a mug of vodka then topped it with whipped cream and crushed peppermint candy.  It should satisfy even your sweet tooth and will keep you warm on the way home.”

After Illya had finished the drink, Napoleon tried once more. 

“Stay the night.  My guest room is all setup.”  Although not drunk, Illya was not as steady as the American would like to see. 

“Thanks but not tonight.”

“Illya there’s a snowstorm out there and you’re not exactly steady.” 

“I will not walk but take a taxi.  Do not worry my friend.  Thank you for the magnificent evening.”  With that, Illya slipped into his coat and gloves and with a wave and swaying a little walked toward the elevator.

“I’ll try to stop by headquarters tomorrow, but if I don’t remember Aunt Amy is expecting you for dinner the day after tomorrow at six for Christmas dinner.”  Napoleon called after him.

“I will be there.”  Illya called back as the elevator closed.

…..

Outside a taxi was going by and Illya managed to wave it down.  Settling in the back after giving the driver his address, he thought over the evening.  Napoleon had given him one of the nicest presents he had received since he was a child. 

The Russian truly had not celebrated Christmas since the one with his father until he came to America and Napoleon had included him in his celebration every year.

Waking at the sudden stop of the taxi, he found himself facing a gun and a demand.   “Give me your money and then out of the taxi.”  Looking around he could see only trees on one side and open field on the other.  Both were being buried in the falling snow.

Although he knew he could normally take the man, his inebriated state at the moment could cause more troubles than it was worth.   Pushing the box with his nutcracker further into his pocket, he slowly removed his wallet and handed the money over to the driver ensuring his gun didn’t show. 

After the driver had taken his money, he waved him out of the taxi with his gun.  “The address you gave me is five miles that way.  If you hurry you’ll be home in a few hours.”

Illya stepped out in the snowstorm and the taxi took off leaving him on the side of the road.  “Well if nothing else, I’ll be sober by the time I get home.”  He said out loud the only sound in snow. 

Although he thought about calling for a ride from UNCLE or Napoleon, he didn’t want to explain what had happened or live through the kidding that would follow.  Placing his hands in his pocket, he began to walk down the road toward home.  Suddenly he was slipping on the ice, falling down a hill before hitting his head on a rock that knocked him out.

……

Opening his eyes, Illya glanced around.  Everything around him was white with snow except for the couch he was laying on.  He glanced at himself to see that he was dressed in a red uniform top with gold braided buttons, white pants, and a felt hat on his head.  Sitting up, he noticed his shoes had been replaced with ballet slippers. 

“ _что_ _, черт возьми,_ _происходит_ (What the hell is happening?)” He was surprised when no sound was heard as he spoke.

Thinking back the last thing he remembered was falling down the hill.  He needed help but couldn’t find his communicator.  Looking around, he stood up grabbing his head. A small spot of blood covered his hand and drums were pounding inside it.  His hand immediately went to his gun but instead of his weapon he found a sword.

Music began in the background and April appeared before him, dressed as a princess.  She held out her hand and Illya took it.  Soon they were dancing across the snow.  He shook his head and tried to figure out what drug Thrush had given him this time, as they continued to waltz around the area.

The music changed to a dangerous mix of anger and fear when the Rat King from the Nutcracker appeared before him with the face of Victor Marton. 

He closed his eyes attempting continuing to clear his mind.  He knew this couldn’t be happening but didn’t know how to wake up from the nightmare. He closed his eyes hoping that the scene what disappear and he would discover what was really going on.  However, when he reopened his eyes, the Rat King had drawn his sword threatening April. 

 “This is crazy!”  Illya shouted and hurried to protect the female agent.

Placing April behind him, he turned to face the rat. The sound of crashing swords soon could be heard as the music intensified and they moved around the floor.  Slipping and sliding through the snow, their swords rang out under the sounds of the music.

As the echoes of the swords intensified, others joined in the fight. Illya recognized both UNCLE and Thrush agents.   Dancing, jumping, and fighting the music increased causing the snow to fly around them.  Suddenly, Illya slipped—falling…falling....falling.

…..

Opening his eyes, Illya found himself surrounded by white once again.  This time instead of music, he could hear the noise of the medical center. The beeping of the heart monitor, the hissing of the oxygen and the clicking of the IV pump.   

Napoleon was sitting beside him smiling when he saw Illya’s eyes opened.

“Well it’s time you decided to wake up,” Napoleon said, relief could be heard through the teasing.

“How long?” That always seemed to be the first question the agents asked when waking up.

“Just a few hours since we found you.   I’m not too sure how long before that.  What happen that you were in that field?”

Illya ignored the question with a look that said he had no intention of explaining what had happen at this moment.  “How did you find me?”

“You managed to activate your tracer before you became unconscious.  We had a little trouble locating you as the snowstorm had completely covered you up.  When we did find you, your temperature had fallen dangerously low and you were mumbling something about a sword and rats.”

“Just a dream nothing to be concerned about.  When can I get out of here?”  Illya skipped to the relevant question.

“They want to keep you until tomorrow.   You’ll be out in time for dinner at Aunt Amy’s.   I’ll bring some clothes for you and we’ll head there after you’re discharge.”

As Napoleon left the room, Illya rolled over.  He would have to give a report to Waverly, and probably was in for a dressing down for his dangerous behavior but for now he thought back to the night before the taxi.  Sitting on the bedside table, was the Nutcracker Napoleon had given him.  Smiling he took it off the table, and holding in he fell back to sleep.  This time the dreams were of the play and the last Christmas with his family.


End file.
